Divine Grace
by Linndechir
Summary: His lord never blindfolded him, unlike God he never withheld his glory from his servant's admiring eyes. Blackwood/Coward.


Disclaimer: They're obviously not mine, I'm just giving them the love they deserve. :)

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**Divine Grace**

His lord never blindfolded him.

He liked to tie him up, hands bound to the bedposts, legs spread wide, exposed and vulnerable. He sometimes gagged him, or more often simply commanded him to be silent. But he never blindfolded him.

Nicholas wasn't sure if it was because his lord preferred to see his eyes - and he knew that Blackwood did - or if it was a reward that he was always allowed to look at his lord when they were together. Not for the world would he want to miss this sight - Lord Blackwood in all his dark glory looming over him, without his jacket, but otherwise still fully and perfectly dressed, a shadow of a beard on the stern face, dark green eyes - those eyes that had haunted Nicholas' dreams for so long - hungrily staring down at him like a predator would stare at its prey.

Nobody else was allowed to witness his lord's needs and wishes, just like nobody else would ever be allowed to see Nicholas like this, naked and wanton. The reasons were different, but the result was the same - unfaltering faithfulness on both sides. It made Nicholas shiver with joy to think that he alone was granted the honour of serving his lord in this most intimate way, that his lord had chosen _him_ for his pleasure and no other.

A knife was resting in his lord's hands, his ritual blade, bathed so often in both their blood as well as in their victims'. Blackwood was caressing the blade, touching it as if it were an instrument to be tuned before it could be played. Nicholas couldn't tear his gaze away from these perfect hands, so slender and dainty they looked almost out of place on such a tall, imposing man - but after having felt them all over his body, after kissing and worshiping them for hours, he could not imagine them being any different.

His lord's expression did not change when the blade was brought to Nicholas' neck; the cold steel sent shudders through his entire body, and he turned his head to bare his throat further. The edge of the blade was pressing against his skin, but Lord Blackwood was so nimble with the knife that he never cut him, unless he meant to.

The blade moved, the tip caressing tender, overheated skin until it came to rest in the hollow of his throat. Nicholas' heart was racing, but he smiled, for he was still able to look into his lord's eyes.

Lord Blackwood was frowning, but he always was, the lines on his forehead were no indication of his mood. Nicholas trusted his lord, trusted him never to hurt him unless he deserved it, trusted him not only with his life, but with his immortal soul.

An uncontrolled gasp fled his lips when his lord's other hand suddenly brushed his inner thigh, slowly moving up to his groin, barely touching the embarrassing evidence of his arousal - created by nothing but a blade at his throat and the knowledge that the blade was being held by Him.

Blackwood leant forward until his lips touched Coward's ear, silently mouthing one word against the skin. Nicholas did not need to hear it to know what it was.

"_Mine."_

Nicholas bucked up against the teasing hand, but the increasing pressure of the blade against his throat reminded him that he had not been allowed to move. His fingers grabbed the chains of his handcuffs more tightly, and he whimpered when the blade slid downwards, caressing his burning skin until it came to a halt on his chest.

His lord had withdrawn his hand and sat up again, eyes dark with lust. Nicholas could not suppress a smile - not even when the blade moved lower, when the sharp tip scratched his skin open for the first time, right between his ribs, above his heart. One well-placed thrust would be enough to end his life.

Still no fear, no desire to struggle or to beg. He had devoted his entire life to his lord, it belonged to Blackwood anyway. Nicholas' life had been so empty, so meaningless, the average life of a spoilt, ambitious young noble, destined to be no different from his peers', until his lord had led him out of blindness and mediocrity. Lord Blackwood had given him a life that was worth living, just like God had given life to mankind.

And like it was God's right to take away what he had granted, it was Lord Blackwood's right to end Nicholas' life if he chose to. Nicholas would die gladly if only he knew that his death pleased and served his lord. If Lord Blackwood chose to thrust the knife into his heart, Nicholas would thank him with his last breath - because it would be an honour even to die at his lord's hand … and in his bed.

Time seemed to stand still, even the thrumming of his blood in his ears was more like an indistinct noise than a like ticking clock, and Nicholas did not know if the blade stayed above his heart for seconds or hours.

The moment it was drawn back and put aside a smile spread over Lord Blackwood's face, smoothed out the lines on his forehead, lit his eyes, and Nicholas felt as if his heart would burst with joy. His lord had never meant to frighten him, but merely to put his trust to the test - and Nicholas had not disappointed him.

The smile was gone as quickly as it had come, like a fleeting ray of sunlight on the bleakest autumn day. But the warmth remained, and Nicholas basked in the blinding light of his lord's love.

Nimble fingers opened the handcuffs, a short nod indicated that he was allowed to move again. He sat up, rubbing his wrists, and was met by a gentle embrace, strong arms pulling him close, pressing him so tightly against his lord that Nicholas almost hoped he could somehow melt into him, become part of him, never to be separated from the sunlight again. Fingers ran through his hair, combing it gently, warm breath washed over his neck.

When Nicholas had still been a little boy who obediently said his prayers every night, he had come to believe that God did not love him, for He had never answered his pleas. He had never shown any interest in the praying, kneeling boy, He had never given anything in return for the devotion he was offered.

And then Nicholas had entrusted his life and his soul to Lord Blackwood, and his devotion had been rewarded countless times. In his lord's arms Nicholas found all the comfort, all the wisdom, all the joy he had never been able to feel when he had been kneeling in church.

His lord never blindfolded him, unlike God he never withheld his glory from his servant's admiring eyes.

Nicholas had never understood what he had to do to earn God's love and forgiveness. But he knew that Lord Blackwood had chosen him to live by his side, and that was all the grace he ever needed.


End file.
